


Outside Looking In

by ThursdayNight95



Series: Sturges/Warren [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Drama, M/M, Romance, Running Away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-08-27 12:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16702135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThursdayNight95/pseuds/ThursdayNight95
Summary: Nate is intrigued by Sturges' relationship with an ex-raider named Warren.





	1. Chapter 1

Nate's look around Sanctuary and Red Rocket was pretty much finished. He'd stocked up for another trip to Diamond City at least, and would spend at least a week there, probably with Nick Valentine as his companion for this whole Kellog bullshit.  But before he left Sanctuary, he'd go check on your Power Armor. Sturges was beyond great at fixing it up, and always made it better than before. Besides, wearing it whenever possible was just good in the wasteland in general.

Tonight was a bit breezy. The colds here, after the fallout had settled seemed a lot stronger in a different kind of way. Christmas was on its way. In Sanctuary they'd always begin decorating around this time using the decorations left in the abandoned houses. Now that it was all Nate knew, he took to enjoying the little things. Today in Sturges' house, soft Christmas music danced and twirled through the walls. He felt a little bad interrupting Sturges' chill time, but it would be a simple in and out. So he knocked, heard what he thought was a 'come in' and opened the door up.

What Nate saw was something he'd never thought he'd see in a trillion years-- but it was only in his vision a moment before Warren had his gun pointed at Nate's head.

"Uh... Sorry. What'd I interrupt?" Nate asked sheepishly.

"If you tell anyone what you saw, I fuckin' promise you won't be walkin' a few days." Warren threatened. His finger was nowhere near the trigger of the gun.

"Relax, War." Sturges was very chill about the whole thing, if not embarrassed. "What's up, General?"

They'd been dancing together. Not just near each other, but dancing * _together_ *. Holding one another close like they were a couple. Warren had had his head on Sturges' shoulder as they waltzed around. Holy shit. Holy shit! It must've been a dream come true for the guy.

Sturges' cheeks were red, but he acted as normal, if not a little embarrassed.

"Came by to check on the power armor before I left." Nate explained.

"Got 'er all nice n' pretty for ya." Sturges grinned and lead Nate to the little garage

Warren did not follow like he usually did, or ask why Nate didn't want to take him adventuring this week. He probably knew by now Diamond City was not very keen on his stealing ways, and neither was Nate.

The power armor was excellent. He paid Sturges 500 caps (he was shocked at how much and tried to give some back), and got in, thanking him again. He said your farewells to the... couple? and made his way to Diamond City.

+

When Nate got back, Sanctuary was filled to the brim with Christmas joy. It felt like Christmas for sure, what with the lights and makeshift decor. They even decorated the big tree in the cul-de-sac with lights and baubles and garland. Nate felt bad missing out, but killing Kellogg was a bit more important than some tinsel and radiated hot cocoa.

Preston was overjoyed to see Nate, and as was everyone else. They liked seeing Nick, too. But Warren was on Nate's mind right now, with all that Nuka Cola weighing him down. Chances were, you'd hit two birds with one stone and see Sturges there too.

Warren had built a pier into his shack that extended into the water. Nate would often find him fishing for hours on it, listening to Diamond City radio, or even the classical station here and there, but ultimately said it made him uncomfortable and stuck to Diamond City's station.

Warren was not on his makeshift pier today, but drinking coffee around a fire barrel with Sturges and a dead fish.

"Huh, an unlikely duo." Nick quipped.

"Whoa, hey Nick!" Warren immediately got up and gave him a high five. "And hey Nate." They bumped fists. "Me n' Sturges were just shootin' the shit. Wanna chill with us?"

Sturges greeted the two with a small 'howdy'.

Nate and Nick sat by the fire and explained how things went. The teleportation thing seemed to shock them, Warren said he were bullshitting, but Nick was quick to assure him of the truth.

"So... The Glowing Sea, huh?" Sturges asked after a pensive sip of coffee. "Guess I better get started on your Power Armor, huh?"

"It can wait a little bit. Nate needs to relax a while and prepare mentally before he goes out there." Nick said. "The last thing we need is him having a panic attack in there. Or worse, a heart attack."

The faster Nate got to see his son, the better. But Nick was right.

-

"You and Warren seem to be getting along well." Nate said to Sturges one cold winter day as they fixed generators around the town.

"Heh. Ya think so?" he snorted bashfully. "Unfortunately, the rest of Sanctuary disagrees. So if I'm not here, check Red Rocket, or his shack. Been tryin' to make that place a lil' warmer at least, but he's really against it for some reason."

"People don't like him here?" Nate asked. "Doesn't he clean and mod their guns?"

"He used to. Uh. People here, especially Marcy, don't like raiders. Even though he ain't one no more." There wasn't even an attempt at a sad smile. He just finished tightening the bolts and adjusted his scarf. "It was a shitshow. Basically ran him out. Right before Christmas, too." He sighed, letting steam out like a train.

"... Sorry I didn't let you guys know before." Nate said. "How's Warren handling this?"

"He says their all pieces of shit, says the only reason this place isn't raided is because you built it, then he ran away for a bit." He went on to the other side of the generator and finished up. "I feel bad for 'im. Guy just wants to be something more. Gets shit on immediately for shit he can't change."

"Yeah. That really fucking sucks. You know where he is now?"

"Red Rocket. If you really wanna help, though, convince the guards to stop shooting at him for getting near the fence."

Fucking hell.

-

Nate had never seen Warren without his mask before. It looked like he'd been hit by a deathclaw and burned immediately after. He was as handsome as he sounded beneath all that, though. Regardless, throughout time of travelling with him, he never seemed like the crying type. Warren would always look away awkwardly and give Nate an old magazine when had his moments of weakness, then check up on him here and there. Crying was punished in most of Warren's outfits, and in Libertalia he'd once seen a raider get killed for it.

"What do you want?" he demanded.

"I heard they ran you out of Sanctuary."

"Of course they fucking did. Why do I ever expect good shit to happen to a fucking hock of garbage like me? What made me think I deserve a fucking second chance?" he demanded. "It was too good to be true. Now fucking Sturges is thrown into this mess, everyone thinks he's shit for hanging out with me, they won't fucking stop reminding him how suspicious they are now. Keep callin' him a traitor." He squeezed his hair and covered his face, growling in anger. "I ruined his fucking life. I told the dumbass to stay away from me and not to fucking look for me, but he fucking brought me back like I'm worth all this bullshit!" he began to cry again. "Just do everyone a fucking favor. Give me some of that karma I deserve, man."

"Don't be so dramatic." Nate said lightly, pulling out some soda for him. "There ya go.  I'll talk to them all, alright?"

"Nate. You don't have to defend me or whatever. Just make sure Sturges is safe, okay? Please? Make them stop hating him for givin' a monster like me a chance."


	2. Chapter 2

Between thoughts of Shaun, Nora, and the dizzying reality that he wasn't going to wake up from this wasteland nightmare any longer, he decided it was best not to sleep tonight. Or maybe it was a bad idea not to sleep tonight. He wasn't sure if he could deal with seeing his family and waking up to realise they weren't there.

He squeezed his eyes shut. Tried to sleep just to get his mind to quiet down.

Then he heard gunshots.

"You got my arm, you fuck stick!"

Apparently the guards decided Nate's word wasn't good enough. With a heavy sigh he got up, grabbed his coat, and left the warmth of the shambles of his house.

"What the hell's going on out here?" Nate demanded. The lights shone yellow against the black night. (Odd that all it took was a nuclear war to be able to see the stars again).

Warren had his mask back on, but it was very obviously him. His assault gas mask had a Fancy Lads sticker on it, and had been sewn, mended, duct taped enough to make it look unique. He also had stuff in his hands. Stolen goods, most likely.

The guards had turned to Nate now. Whispered among themselves.

"Let him in. And now he's got an injury and we've gotta treat it." Nate pushed the gate open and helped Warren and his stolen goods to the nearest work bench.

"I thought you talked to those assholes!" Warren hissed, taking out a half-used stimpak and rolling up his sleeve.

"I did. Looks like they didn't get the memo. I'll talk to them again later." Nate did a double-take. "Buddy. You have to use the whole stimpak."

"I don't like it when my arm goes numb and I get real thirsty." Warren admitted.

"When it gets numb is the perfect time to get the bullet out."

"Nah, it went right through me. Clean shot. I-- Owww!" he clenched his fists in shock and pain as Nate administered an entire stimpak. "Motherfucker... Now you owe me some water."

Nate got him a Nuka Cola bottle of fresh water and watched him turn around and swig it back.

"So what's all this?" Nate asked of the food items, scrap, and worn guns.

"Just what I could get this week. Only one of these is stolen. Bud. I couldn't help it." He pointed to the magazines. Okay, apparently he can't count. "I saw the Picket Fence bullshit and thought of you. Dunno, the people in there are all fancy and shit, you like building shit. Done. And this one is for Sturges." He said of Hot Rodders. "That's all I stole. I bought and scavenged the rest."

A stolen good is a stolen good, but honestly Nate was too tired to care.

"So what's with you and him?" Nate asked. "I really thought you'd like Codsworth or Cait or something."

"Cait's annoying as fuck." Warren hissed. "Every moment around her is grating to the ears. Codsworth is cool. But, you know... I dunno why I like Sturges so much."

"Are you guys dating?"

"No." Warren shook his head. "I'm actually... Heh, I'm just gonna fuck off in like a week and not come back. Maybe I'll step on a landmine or somethin'. Then they'll leave him alone."

Nate patted Warren's back. Warren just stared at him in silence.

Snow started falling. Nate brought the man inside, gave him a warm drink, and they sat in silence for a bit.

One part of Nate demanded to know why he was feeling any sort of sympathy to a raider. A raider is a fucking raider. He could just turn on everyone and he'd be the one who let it happen.

But Warren left that life. Does it make him any less of a monster? Of a human being? He wished he knew what all Warren had done in his life. He could just ask, but Warren at this point seemed to be self-reflecting. He'd put his mask on his lap and sat near the heater.

Seeing Kellogg's whole sob story didn't make a difference. Nate had shot without thinking, without caring. Kellogg was dead, because all Nate knew was that he killed his wife and took his son.

He could shoot Warren right now. He saw Warren in that room laughing with the other raiders about an innocent person being shot. Who knows what evil bullshit he'd done, and was now forgiven for despite not deserving it?

"You should go visit Sturges." Nate said quietly. "I'm sure he'd love to see you."

"I'm sure he'd love Marcy and that farmer dude yelling his ear off for associating with me." Warren sighed. "I'll catch ya later." He wasn't even inside this house ten minutes before Nate told him to leave.

He didn't do anything wrong. Nate was just overthinking. He needed sleep, even if it was just and hour, bookended with memories of the people he loved.

-

Warren was gone the next morning. A sick, cold feeling of dread filled his stomach. First he visited Warren's shack. Then Red Rocket. Then Sturges' house.

"He was here last night?" Sturges asked, wrench down. Nate noticed how his fists clenched. "I don't know. If he's not here or at his shack, try Goodneighbor. He goes there a lot. Says he likes to get drunk at the Third Rail."

"He walks all that way to get drunk?"

"Says it's the only place he feels safe." He looked worried. "Did somethin' happen, General? He ain't hurt or nothin', right?"

"He's fine. Saw him last night, but I guess he was just dropping some supplies off."

Sturges nodded absently. It was obvious he was thinking hard about what he wanted to say next, he just ended up shaking his head and going back to work, blinking more than usual.

-

It would be three days until he came across Warren again. Warren had a several weapons on him, leaving the Old State House.

He only acknowledged Nate with a nod and left the neighborhood.

"Hey!" Nate followed after. "Warren. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah." he sounded tired. "Hancock says he's ready to travel with you if you wanna."

"O-okay. Thanks. But really, are you alright?"

"Am I alright?" Warren tilted his head. "The fuck makes you think otherwise? You think because I talked about stepping on a landmine that I'm gonna go out and kill myself? Because the faggots over at Sanctuary don't like me?"

Nate sighed heavily.

"Yeah. I was worried, alright?" he admitted. "I'm glad you're okay. Sturges said he missed you the other night."

"Uh huh. Tell him sorry for me. Probably won't be back a while."

"Why's that?"

"Dunno. Need some time to myself. Gotta think about things." He paused. "Stop fucking looking at me like that! It's really pissing me off." The anger in his voice was frightening. "You know I'm not fucking worth the trip, right? That I ain't worth worryin' about? Fuck off with your bullshit pity."

And with that, he left. Nate couldn't even find a 'goodbye'.

-

"I didn't expect you to, to be honest." Sturges chuckled lightly. "He doesn't like bein' bothered. Thanks for tryin' though, boss."

"You're... You're not worried?"

"He's been living in the wastes as long as I have. Except he knows how to fight, bribe, and hold a gun correctly. Why would I be worried?"

Nate explained the weird mood.

"He wouldn't do that. He's always talking about us goin' to Nuka World, or goin' to Maine... He wouldn't do that." It sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anything.

Nate realised that he was just scaring one of the hardest working people in Sanctuary and wanted to slap himself. He apologised and decided to help the Minutemen to clear his head.

"Wanna come with, Sturges?"

"I'm fine here, General."

-

He hated how Warren wore that stupid gas mask. Nate had to double check every time he aimed at someone with it on. What were the odds of Warren being the one to raid a settlement? What were the odds of him or Nick just blasting Warren's head off? What if he'd done it at Backstreet Apparel?

"Keep your wits about you, son." Nick whispered.

Bullets whizzed by. Plinked off of metal pipes, damaged a lot of the cement, damaged his armor... Usual raider fights. Except this time a raider on psycho came out with a machete. He was shot three times in the heart and once in the head before he actually died.

They looted the raiders. He found himself removing the masks just to tripe check that even the women weren't Warren. Then he started to wonder when a person became a monster. They had just killed 15 people and looted their bodies. Nate took a bit of pride, cleansing the Commonwealth of horrible people, but... Was he the same as them? A monster?

The thought to his time in the army.

Then he thought of his family.

Valentine finished up looting as Nate blinked the tears from his eyes. It seemed like he was lingering on a note, then looking around.

"What'd you find?" Nate asked quietly.

"A note from our mutual friend."

Oh god. His stomach felt like bricks as he grabbed the bloody paper. So many things ran through his mind, as loud as a plane. Please don't be in here, please don't be in here, please don't be in here...

'Fuck you, Sen. I'm so sick of your shit. I told you I'm done. If you wanna trade we'll trade, but I'm not joining your fucking roaming band of bloodthirsty retards ever again. I've got three things of psycho and a few shots of jet. And if I throw 350 caps in, you gotta swear you won't fuck with those settlements no more. They're my turf. Meet me at Goodneighbor if you wanna wheel and deal. -Warren'

So... where was he now? 


	3. Chapter 3

****

It was best not to let himself get hung up on the little things. What was important right now was getting to the glowing sea and he was growing tired of fucking around.

But, to get to the glowing sea he'd have to get his power armor back from Sturges, which meant his train of thought would be thrown off again.

The beautifully decorated town of Sanctuary was up in arms today. There was a raider attack. No lives had been lost, thankfully, just people being mended by doctors and given blood packs, et cetera.

Of course there would be hushed talk of who the poor paranoid settlers thought had planned this.

* _We should've never let that scumbag in._ *  
* _It's the big guy's fault for trying to make friends anyway!_ *  
* _Every raider we see, we kill._ *

"Excuse me." Nate patted a settler's shoulder. "Where's the handyman?"

The man blinked in confusion for a moment, then pointed over to Preston's house. "Why?"

'I think they're just paranoid. Can you blame them? He's the only raider in the--' Preston's muffled voice was cut off.

'* _Ex_ * raider.' Sturges said.

'He's the only ex-Raider in this place.'

'What do they want, then? I go visit him, I get accused of abandoning the settlement, he visits here with gifts and shit, they shoot him and bully him out. I don't wanna pick sides. I know Warren's a good guy, and I know for sure this was just a random raider attack. Warren didn't do this.'

Jesus, the guy was a drama magnet.

"Knock knock." Nate called. Preston let him in.

"Afternoon, General. How are you doing?" he asked, offering some food and water. "Thanks for helping that settlement, by the way."

"All in a days work. Uh. I was here to ask Sturges about the power armor."

"It's at Red Rocket." Sturges got up, pulled some keys from his pocket, and made his way out. "Thanks for the talk, Preston."

"Make sure you get some sleep, Sturges." Preston called.  
  


"She's as tricked out as she can be now. I can't upgrade 'er anymore. I can keep keepin' maintenance if you want, but it's best you learn to do that yourself after a while."

"Thank you for all your hard work, Sturges."

"Are you going to the Glowing Sea?" he asked, folding his arms. "Be careful out there. Don't know what we'd do if we lost ya."

"Thanks. You be careful too."

"Oh. Uh. If you see Warren while you're out there, can you tell him I'm worried about him?"

This didn't bode well.

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"Saturday night. He must've ran off in the morning, or after I fell asleep or somethin'. He was sayin' all this cryptic shit..." he ran his hand through his hair, then let his arm fall defeatedly back to his side and shook his head. "I just think he's gonna get himself killed out there."

"He'll be back. And if I see him before then, I'll knock 'im out cold and bring him here if I have to."

"All you have to do is tell him I've got a Nuka Cherry, General." He didn't seem amused by the joke. "Don't bring him to Sanctuary. They'll kill him."

"I think I need to have a talk with the people here." Nate decided.

"I appreciate it, General, but what you need to do right now is find your son. I'll deal with this here." It wasn't a suggestion, it was an order. "Was just sayin'... If ya see him, point him in the right direction. Keep yerself safe now."

-

Another job for Sturges.

Or maybe Tinker Tom. After all, Sturges was obviously stressed, and getting him to put together a teleportation device to get Nate to the Institute was a big order.

After some rest and conversation with Nick, they made a trip to Diamond City. More rest. More thinking. More trying to force himself to stay sane in this fucking radioactive wasteland. Alcohol was in order!

Nick decided he'd see if he could get some work done while he was there, and Nate took to the Dugout Inn. The Bobrovs made some of the best, most effective moonshine he'd ever had.

There went two days of his life he'd never get back.

-

Goodneighbor was on the way to Old North Church anyway. Plus, Hancock was fun to hang out with and hardly ever complained about Nate's in-battle chem use.

It was a few days until he reached Goodneighbor. The goddamn entrance was always full of mutants, gunners, and mongrel dogs. It was a wonder how traders survived the fucking walk there.

But he was safe. Well, as safe as someone could get in a place like this. First stop, the bar.

The first thing he heard among the din of drunks and music was the moron himself, Warren. Slurring something about fishing and boats to a familiar bald head.

Well. At least Warren was alive.

"You already told me the boat story." Deacon said lightly, patting Warren's shoulder. "You need to get some rest."

"I don't wanna... Buttttttt youcan come putme ta bed... I'm always fuhckin tired affter a good fuck."

Jesus Christ.

"No way, buddy. Saving this body for the Lord and Savior."

"What?? Who da fuck..." Warren got up with Deacon's help, then gasped. "Hide me! Nate's here..."

Nate blinked. For some reason he couldn't comprehend this.

"Do you guys know each other?" Nate asked once in earshot.

"Fuckin'... fuckin' egghead meg-head righ' here... He'sssss reeeal smart... I usedta know 'im, but he says I'm lying. Big fuckin' talk from an asshole like him!" Warren was barely intelligible, and heavily leaned on Deacon for support.

"Yeah, Warren here was disguised as a pretty lady and almost tricked me into sleeping with him." Deacon lied. "Had the big, powdered wig and face paint-- huge bazongas, too."

"Shut the fuck up. I'm a fuckin' man, baby." Warren hissed. "Take me home. Or... Fuck, I don't have a home..."

Deacon helped steady Warren and gave Nate a sheepish smile.

"I'm gonna tuck this guy in at the Rexford. If you need anything from me, I'll be back down here in a few."

Warren didn't want to go to bed. Warren wanted to get blackout drunk and stay blackout drunk.

"Youssshould meet my mannnn. My mann!" Warren said from the stairs. "Fuuuck, he's so fuckingggg coool.... He can build a fuckinn rocket... an' fly it RIGHT to my heart..."

"You already told me about Sturges." Deacon's voice echoed from the stairs.

"Fuckkkkk youuuu thennnnn."

-

"Wow, could've brought me breakfast or somethin'." Warren scoffed. Nate was used to seeing him in layers of armor, long sleeves, gloves, boots. Seeing him so... underdressed almost felt perverse. But they were normal clothes! A shirt and pants! "Mornin', John. Nate."

"Mornin'. You're just a ray of sunshine today, aren't ya?" Hancock pulled out some Dandy Boy and a box of Sugar Bombs.

"You tell me." Warren swallowed down the apples first, then grabbed handful of Sugar Bombs. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised you and Nate know each other. Motherfucker seems to know everyone."

"I do a lot of travelling." Nate said. "Uh, speaking of which, Sturges wanted--"

Warren's brown eyes went downcast. He held up his hand and shook his head. "I don't care what he thinks he wants. I'm not taking a fucking step anywhere near that place. Not near the vault, not even near Concord."

"Drama, huh?" Hancock raised his lack of eyebrows and took a drag of his cigarette. "Thought you loved the guy."

Warren tensed. Eyes wide, staring at the ground, then blinking hard.

"I'm not gonna put his life and livelihood in fuckin' danger cuz he makes me smile. He deserves better than the bullshit I peddle. So I ain't goin' back. Tell him I'm dead, it'll be easier on him."

"Aw, c'mon brother, don't be that way." Hancock leaned back in the couch and let out the smoke. "Don't break the guy's heart. At least have the guts to * _say_ * something before you run off for good."

Nate didn't have anything to say at the moment. He was just listening, watching, pondering the drama, the reality, the future.

"He's not gonna be happy to know what you n' I do." Warren said through another fist full of cereal. "He'd never be able to look at me again. He'd hate me. Nate-- be honest with me."

Nate sat attention.

"Look me in the fucking eyes and tell me Sturges deserves the bullshit and stress I put him through. Fucking tell me he deserves a million times better. We all know this shit. Fuck, my head is killing me." he got up and grabbed some water and washed down something from Hancock's drawer.

"He's worried about you. I don't know a lot about what exactly you two have going on, but you both really really care about each other."

Warren visibly rolled his eyes.

"Thanks for the non-answer, asshole."

"What do you want me to say? Want me to lie to you? If you want to know what I think you should do, it's to go back and see him. Build a house somewhere safe and be happy together."

Warren was silent. He didn't look at Nate or Hancock, or even the ground. Just at a wall, as if he could see through it. For a good minute Nate thought he was one one of the many chems Hancock had scattered about the statehouse.

"Sorry, Nate. For dragging you into all this." he said finally. "You got your own problems. Dunno, really seems like you like sticking your nose into mine, though." He didn't say it in a rude way. He lit a cigarette and took a deep, deep drag. He'd now taken to staring out the window, lost in thought.

"I'm headed to Old North Church." Nate said, mostly to Hancock. "Gonna get Tinker Tom to help me get into the Institute. Wanna come with?"

"Sure, sounds more exciting than lazing around here. I'll get some supplies.

Warren flicked the ash off his cigarette.

"Nate, uh... I'm glad you're still alive." he didn't even look at him, it's like he was mesmerised by something outside. "If we don't meet again after this, I'm real glad to've met ya." A ring of smoke left his lips. "And if you somehow see Sturges somewhere, don't tell him I'm here. He'll die trying to get through the gate."


	4. Chapter 4

Warren had stopped responding to Nate, especially after the Nuka Cherry comment. He just continued cleaning his guns. Didn't respond to the offer to go to the Railraod and see Deacon, just didn't respond to anything.

Defeatedly, he went back to his mission. Hancock was obviously worried and went to have a word with him, but all Warren did was put him at arm's length and shake his head.

"Fine. But if I see a single chem in here missing, I'm gonna kick your ass." Hancock said.

Warren had been silent.

And so the seeds of drama, drama, drama, had spread.

"He ain't usually like that." Hancock muttered one night, sifting through a chest for ammo. "Usually he'll start working on modding, or, hell, he'll go start fights."

"How did you two know each other?" Nate asked.

"Dumbass managed to steal some guns from KLEO's. He survived the attack, so he earned 'em." he shrugged. "Then he came back about a month later askin' for me, and gave me them all back, with some ammo and chems on the side. Guess he felt bad. Were buds ever since. It helps that he quit taking chems and gives 'em all to me."

"Friends with benefits, huh?" Nate joked. He managed to pick the lock and gathered the contents inside the safe. Food, dirty water, pre-war cash, some military-grade duct tape, and another pistol.

"Hey, I didn't get to that part yet." Hancock chuckled.

Oh wait. The was being serious. Well, that was something he didn't wanna think too much about.

"I think you need to have a real heart-to-heart with your settlement, Nate. This ain't even necessarily about Warren. Once a town starts driving people out and hating them for no reason, you got danger on your hands. I know you wanted that place to be home for everyone."

"Almost forgot you were a mayor."

"I do too, sometimes. But go and have a long, serious talk with your people. Ask them what they want. Ask 'em why they're so eager for people to hate on. I know what a monster Warren used to be. But I'd trust him with my life." he snagged a bottle of ale and popped it open. "Plus we all know ol' Sturges ain't really the romantic type. Usually sticks to his building and fixin' shit routine."

"I'm really tired of hearing about these two right now, Hancock." Nate admitted. "Let's just get this teleporter done."

"Alright."

Hancock was worried. It filled Nate's stomach with an icy cold fear.

-

Nate was a busy man. But this story isn't focused on his adventures, and the stories heard a million times over. Everyone in the commonwealth knew he got into the Institute. They knew how. They knew why. The man was a legend.

This was focused on the two that had been lingering somewhere deep in his mind, even after seeing the stark, bright whites of the Institute. Of seeing Shaun and Father. Of learning all this mind-boggling crap and trying to wrap his head around it. It was impossible.

Somewhere along the line he'd decided maybe, in the grand scheme of things, things like that didn't matter. Warren already had friends. Nate didn't have to deal with him. Someone else would. Hell, Warren could die and Nate would never know. And when he got to Sanctuary, he'd be bothered again about him. Out of all the things, why did this stick out in his mind?

Maybe it was just the climate-controlled underground city. All this high-tech, high-spec technology surrounding him that made him think what was going on in the wastes was, well a waste.

Shaun was here. He had what was left of his family. And it really did seem like the Institute was the for the good of the future, despite them being the boogeyman of the Commonwealth. Piper would be furious.

"These are our missing synths. If you want to go out and look for some, I have a list of locations in Boston."

There was a moral dilemma, yeah. Nate wasn't too keen on the idea of taking hardworking people away from their shacks and shambles and resetting them, but the other part of him was strongly considering it a positive. It looked like a much better life down here.

He said he would consider it and spent a few more days in the cleanliness of the Institute.

-

There was a synth called T8-43. Apparently he used to work on the computers here, but ran off about a decade ago. Was always a problem synth, having wants and dreams, wanting to go to see the sea. According to the other synths, he always had to go in to be reset. He managed to escape one day, and somehow made it to Far Harbor. Left when the fog drove people crazy and became a raider.

...

Why was he even thinking of capturing a synth and bringing it back here for it to be a slave, punished for thinking? Why was Warren everywhere? Did Warren know he was a synth?

His meeting with the Railroad was overdue by now anyway. After giving Shaun a long hug, he promised he'd be back, and went to report his findings.

-

"You're not actually thinking of bringing them back to the Institute, are you?" Deacon asked. "You know that's not how this works, right? That's, like, the total opposite of our job."

Hancock didn't approve either but he sat silently, flicking the ashes off his cigarette.

"I'm not actually gonna do it." Nate frowned. "You guys really have that little faith in me?"

"People do crazy shit for their family." Deacon said. "No, dunno any 'T8-43', boss."

"I think you do."

"Uh huh. I * _used_ * to know a synth like that. But I used to know a lotta synths. Couldn't tell ya where they went after we leave 'em alone for, what, ten years? They could be dead." Deacon didn't trust Nate anymore.

"Fine. Keep being all combative. Was just curious." Nate folded his arms. "Anyway. Gonna go restock at Sanctuary and probably rest for a year." Nate chuckled.

"Ya bring back any underground chems?" Hancock asked.

"I have some aspirin tablets." he fished them out of his bag and watched Hancock inspect them.

Whether Nate wanted to catch him or not, where would Warren even be at this point?


	5. Chapter 5

__

No one knew where he was. He'd occasionally talked about going to a place called New Vegas, mentioning how good he was at losing money there, but had fun anyway. But New Vegas was a damn long walk Warren himself probably wasn't willing to make.

What the fuck would Nate do or say if he caught up with Warren anyway? Hey, you're a synth and I know your shutdown code? He probably wouldn't talk to Nate anyway. Warren was a lost cause, and yet he kept asking around. Maybe he just wanted something to tell Sturges something hopeful when he got back.

Fuck! There he went, getting himself involved in shit that didn't involve him.

He was greeted kindly by the guards in Sanctuary.

"You bring your raider friend?" one asked. "He was the only one who could make the guns nice and clean."

"... He hasn't been here while I was gone?" Nate asked. "Do you blame him, with all the shit you guys said to him?"

"We all made a plan to apologise or give him gifts or something, but even Sturges hasn't seen heads or tails of 'im."

Nate raised his eyebrows. "What's with the change of heart?"

"Sturges hasn't been happy lately. Told us all we ran a perfectly good man out for no reason, et cetera, et cetera... I felt bad about it, anyway. Guess a lot of others did too. I mean, he did help us out a lot while he was here."

Yeah, building generators, fixing and modding weapons, building fortifications and teaching the settlers how to properly use and clean their guns was awfully nice of Warren.

Obviously the knowledge of guns and whatnot wasn't from his mother, like Warren said it was. The story about him shooting a raider in the heart from a mile away when he was a kid * _was_ * too cool to be true. So how did he get these memories? Was he just full of fake stories? Did he know he was a synth? Was he created with all this gun knowledge?

"So, uh, if you see him, let him know we're all sorry."

"I will." Nate nodded. He left to his house and took a bath and a nap. When he was through, it was dinner time. As usual, everyone would gather in the dinner house, eat, drink, talk. Nate partook in this for a half hour, then went to Warren's shack.

The first thing he noticed was a basket full of Nuka Cherry and a neon blue Nuka Quantum. Full packs of 10mm rounds filled the bottom. Behind the Nuka Cola was a pack of Fancy Lads... This was awfully nice.

Warren's shack had lots of Nuka Cola paraphernalia from his time at Nuka World. He said he used to collect the special cups, bowls and plates to use for dinner, but had lost the drive once things went to shit at Nuka World. A picture of a cat was pinned to the wall. There was a journal on the little desk next to his bed. A quick look said it was all fish measurements and notes about what he was working on. A deeper look mentioned the word 'handyman' a lot. Maybe Nate should stop looking.

...

Where was Sturges, anyway?

He travelled over to Red Rocket to find the place empty. Okay, maybe Preston would know.

"He left a few days ago," he said. "I tried to go with him, but he said he wanted to be alone. I saw him head up northwest, toward the vault." Preston then bit his lip and shifted his weight on one foot, staring at the ground. "He's been gone a while. I'm gonna go check on him, General, if you want to join me."

-

"So, you got into the Institute!" Preston grinned. "I'm shocked you managed to get there alive!"

"Me too. Shocked I got out alive, too."

"Did you find your son?"

"Welllll... He's kinda the leader of the Institute."

"Holy shit."

The area around the vault entrance was empty. Not even a radroach felt like cropping up. So they called his name.

The longer the night went on, the more worried Nate felt. Losing two people in the blink of an eye was... Well, it was scary. There was no telling what could've happened out here. This wasn't the world Nate used to know, the second someone disappeared, they were more than likely dead.

If the glue that held Sanctuary together was gone, what would they do?

It's not like Sturges was Nate's best friend or anything, but he was great to have around. Loved to listen and tell stories, always knew what to say and how to help. He was the anchor everyone needed, really.

And he just disappeared. Fucking fell flat off the earth. Why the hell would he run off?

Why was it hard to breathe suddenly?

They searched until their feet hurt. Gone two days. Maybe the Concord area was too small. But he was just a settler, it's not like he packed to travel to Goodneighbor.

They rested near the junkyard they'd cleared out ages ago. Ate, drank, talked about whatever to get their minds off the inevitable fact that Sturges--

was gathering scrap just beyond the fucking fence!! Has he been there the whole goddamn time?

"Sturges!" Nate shouted. "I'm gonna kick your fucking ass!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if ao3 had a 1k word minimum id be screwed

It wasn't every day someone put the pieces of an old hot rod together to try to make a working car. Of course, this was a post-war dystopia, so there was a turret in the driver's seat.

It was nothing like an old world car, but Sturges had taken his time buffing and polishing scraps of metal to make them clean and shiny. He'd even made a spoiler for the damn thing! He'd been working on the interior (which had to be completely redone) when he was so rudely interrupted.

Fuck, how long had he been working on this thing?

"If you need supplies, I stored some in the garage. Don't worry, nothin' in there's alive enough to hurt ya." His voice weighed to the ground with exhaustion.

"... Have you been here the whole time?" Preston asked quietly.

"Hope you guys didn't need me for anythin' important. Just needed to be alone. Get my mind off things." he set town his wrench on the freshly-restored hood of the car and looked at Nate. "You survived the Institute! I'm impressed! Ya learn anything?"

"Yeah." Oh god, his sarcasm was kicking in. Nate couldn't stop himself. "Learned a great pizza recipe, Shaun's the leader of the Institute, Warren's a synth, rainbows are actually full circles and--"

"That so?" Sturges was clearly not in the mood. "Guess the rainbow thing makes sense. But you'll need to say the thing about Shaun and Warren more slowly."

He explained the thing about Shaun, and bumbled around the Warren thing.

"Let me ask you this, then. Was he replaced by a synth or was he always one?" Oh, he was on his third bottle of beer apparently.

"He's always been one."

"Then I'm not worried about it. If it was the first one, there'd be hell to pay, that's for sure." He muttered and got back to the seat he was making. "Where's the fuckhead at?"

Well, that went a hell of a lot better than Nate expected.

"No one knows."

"Goodneighbor, Bunker Hill, anywhere around the water, and Goodneighbor. Wait, I said that one already." He bit his cheek. "I know what you're thinkin', 'Sturges should just go himself.'--"

"Yeah." Nate admitted.

"And you're right. I just need to hire a good merc. I'm terrible with guns." he explained. "Is Hancock with ya, General?"

"I'm shocked and offended, Sturges. You don't want me to be your merc?" Nate scoffed.

"I assumed you'd want some relaxation after all that stress." Sturges said lightly. "And Preston's always busy. I don't trust anyone else around Warren. Hancock was my next bet."

He was a good bet, that's for sure. But he dropped off and stayed around with Deacon back at the church. Hell, he might've even started looking for Warren by himself.

"How long have you been working on this?" Preston asked of the car.

"A few months. I don't come back here too much, though, so she doesn't get as much attention as she needs." he patted the car gently. "Don't think I can get 'er on the road, like in the magazines, but I can do my best."

-

"What are you and Warren?" Nate asked one night. "Friends? Lovers? Hell, even * _brothers_ *?"

Sturges didn't respond at first. His eyes were glued to the sky, like he was waiting for something to happen. Or maybe he was praying.

"Havin' a lover wasn't somethin' I wanted, per se." he said. "I've always been keepin' myself busy fixin' things for as long as I could remember. The parents tried to fix me up with every girl they could, but I just wanted to work and work and work."

Nate got comfortable.

"I just loved what I did. It helped people. Saved folks. Never really yearned for love or nothin', just never looked." a heavy sigh. "Then you brought in that loud dumbass."

"Was it love at first sight?" Nate grinned.

"Nah." Sturges snorted. "Not for me. But after a while of him just visiting me and helpin' us around Sanctuary, he really grew on me. He'd always dump his stuff on the table and pick out the stuff he thought I'd like. He'd talk to me about modding and guns and stuff. Even though I couldn't get into it, I started to really appreciate him comin' around, you know?"

Nate nodded, a smile still lingering on his face.

Sturges rested his head on his knees and picked at the grass. "I'm tired, General. I'm gonna make camp."

"Wait. You never answered my question." Nate took his arm.

"If I love 'im? Well... Yeah. I wouldn't be losin' this much sleep over 'im if I didn't."

-

The river was long. So fucking long. And full of mirelurks. Of course the number one idiot in the Commonwealth would stay near the mirelurks' festering breeding ground.

Sturges was deceptively good at killing these crab motherfuckers. He knew just when to strike, and how to kill them fast.

"Good recipe for the meat in here," he began. "put it in the pan with some salt and oil, and put it in with some noodles. Real simple, but real good."

"You'll have to show me when we get some noodles." That sounded delicious.

"Hopefully we'll find War before then. He knows how to do it just right." He stopped abruptly. "Hey. You said the Institute tries to bring their runaway synths back, right...?"

Oh. There was a very real possibility that Warren could've been found, reset, and teleported back to the Institute.

"I didn't see a synth like him while I was there. I know I'd recognise his voice." Fuck! "Let's just keep looking."

Pfft. And Nate was considering resetting Warren himself.


	7. Chapter 7

Nate had never spent this much time alone with Sturges before. He'd always seemed like the talkative type with stories to tell and things to teach. Sturges just kept his eyes on the prize, looking for any sign of Warren. When he did speak, it was a much more sober tone than he was used to. Hell, he sounded happier when Nate first met him holed up in the Concord Museum.

Nate had a lot of questions. He'd always been wary of bringing up the Quincy thing, but it seemed like an interesting story. Maybe asking about a massacre Sturges had barely survived while on the search for his possibly dead or returned boyfriend? was a bad idea. At this point, though, he'd love to hear anything other than silence.

"You know, that Pip-Boy of yours is real impressive. How about you turn on some tunes, up the morale a lil' bit, General?"

Diamond City radio. By now everyone knew the songs by heart, could recognise them by the first note. The Christmas music intertwined with the usual 40 songs was nice.

Sturges looked off into the distance. Eyes darted around. Nate knew that look, he'd experienced it a lot himself.

It wasn't until an hour later that he actually said something.

"You alright?"

"I... I don't know where he would be, General. If he ain't along the river, it could be Nuka World, Libertalia, hell, even Far Harbor! If... God, if he's at the Institute... I don't know what I could do with myself. I should've made his dumbass stay." His voice cracked. "I don't wanna give up hope, though. I know he ain't as dumb as he seems. And I know for super sure he's gotten himself outta a lot worse than a raider fight." Breath shaky. Biting his lip. Squeezing his eyes tight to hide the tears. "I'm just scared is all. My mind's goin' to the worse stuff."

"Focus, Sturges. We'll find him."

Sturges hesitantly nodded. He didn't believe Nate for a second. Nate wasn't even sure he believed himself.

The ground rumbled beneath them-- lo and behold, more fucking Mirelurks spawning from the fucking mud. But these put up a fight.

"Hate these damn things!" Sturges growled, his bullet bouncing off the shell-- managed to dodge the heavy swing. Shot it in the face. Another swing dodged, then a more furious growl. Sturges stabbed it with the bayonet until it stopped moving.

That was it for the Mirelurks.

"Of course it has to be the fucking water." Sturges rolled his eyes. "He couldn't enjoy a nice, cozy place with a warm fire? He wanted to be near half-frozen, muddy banks full of killer crabs?"

He was losing his patience.

"I hate using these damn things." He continued, motioning to his gun. "I... I just..." he massaged his temple. "I'm sorry, General. I'm not myself lately."

"Here." Nate handed him some Fancy Lads with a small smile. "You're not you when you're hungry."

Sturges thanked him and ate, trying to calm himself down.

-

The mission lasted just over a week. A mission full of false hope, stress, and a lot of tears Sturges had tried so hard to fight back. They stopped at a Minuteman settlement for a break and some much-needed rest.

No one had seen heads or tails of Warren.

Not Hancock, not Deacon (Nate was skeptical of him), not any settler Warren would've robbed, no one. He was just gone.

"Let's head back home." Nate said lightly one morning.

"You can head back, General. I'm gonna stick around." Sturges said over his bowl of oatmeal.

Nate blinked. "You're still gonna look for him?"

"You didn't stop looking for your son. And you found him, didn't ya? So I'm gonna keep looking."

"No offense, Sturges, but you can't handle yourself in a fight. Especially over here."

Sturges put up his hand. "No offense taken. I know my limits. But I know he's out there somewhere. I won't stop until I find him."

"Or you fucking * _die_ *. You're coming home with me."

"I ain't. I don't wanna die," he admitted. "but I want to find Warren more."

"Is one person worth your life?"

"You're not really in the position to be talkin' me out of this." Sturges reminded him. "I'll be fine."

"But. You-- You need more ammo and better aim and-- fuck, Sturges, I don't want you dead looking for him. He'll come back, you know. He always does."

"I appreciate your concern, General. But you're not gonna sweet talk me out of this one."

Nate didn't try. But he promised to search with Sturges one more day.

"Nick! Nick Valentine!" Nate snapped. "He can help us!"

-

On their trip to Diamond City, Sturges noticed something weird. Not exactly weird to Nate, but weird to him.

Most people don't wear long leather coats with shoulder pads like that here in the Commonwealth.

A courser on his way into a settlement Nate set up a month ago. All the people at the Slog were ghouls, though.

Oh.

Oh no.

"Sturges, stay here. He will kill you if you get in the way." Nate said firmly.

"Wait, who is he? Are we in some sorta fight or what?"

"That's an Institute courser. I'm gonna try to talk to him and get him out if we can--" with that, he made sure Sturges was hidden and went over to greet him.

"Hey. Father's Father. Nate." Nate greeted.

The courser looked at him. "I'm on a mission right now, we can talk later."

"Are you looking for a synth? Look, I run this settlement and this place is just full of tarberries and ghouls."

"I'm here for the synth. T8-43."

What the fuck was he doing at the Slog of all places? Icy cold fear gripped his stomach. He either had to kill this courser, or somehow convince him to leave Warren alone.

...

If things went badly, lots of innocent lives could be lost.

"Don't shoot anyone, you hear me?" Nate demanded. "what do you need T8 for anyway? He's been gone too long, probably isn't worth your time."

"I do what I'm assigned, sir. And if you'll excuse me, I'm going to finish it."

"I can't let you. Go home--"

"Nate? For fuck's sake," that was Warren.

"Theta 8--"

Nate blasted the courser in the face before it could finish its sentence.

"Whoa, what the fuck?"

Everybody in the Slog was armed, so the courser didn't have a chance at surviving. But Nate didn't think, he just acted. He didn't think about what his son would think, he didn't think about what bullshit this could cause, it was on impulse.

Warren walked up to him after lighting a cigarette. Warren had been chain smoking, it smelled like. But at least he wasn't reset.

"Forgot you owned this place." Warren muttered after a deep drag. "So I'm here to pay you some hundred caps to--"

"Did you not see what just happened, Warren?" Nate blinked.

"I saw some scary faggot walk up, say a word, and get killed." he shrugged. "I mean, I've seen worse."

Alright. Let's not make things worse. Nate took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah. Crazy, right?"

Warren had his mask off, seemingly comfortable around the ghouls' melted faces, but also had on a beanie, scarf, and warm clothes. How long had he been here? Why here? So, with his mostly bare face, Nate got to see the face journey Warren went through when he saw Sturges.

Shock, fear, surprise, anger, sadness, and anger again.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Warren demanded to the man hugging him. "Seriously, what in the * _fuck_ * is wrong with you? You stupid fucking... Get off of me." he spat.

"War-- we- I was worried about you." Sturges said, wiping his eyes. "I was scared you'd gone off and killed yourself or that you went and got abducted by the Institute-- which you almost did, I-I was just worried sick the whole damn time."

"Yeah?" Warren growled. "So you decided to fucking walk away from the fucking well-guarded home you have and look for my stupid ass? You didn't fucking care that you could've gotten killed? Are you fucking retarded? Fuck! You could've fucking died out there! You could die on the fucking way back! Stop fucking looking for me! Don't hug me, don't look at me, don't touch me."

"He cares about you, War. You couldn't give him a thank you?" Nate asked.

"For risking his fucking life? For someone like me? No. I won't. I fucking told you to tell him I'm not fucking coming back!" Nate had never seen this type of terrifying anger from Warren before. "Did you even fucking think, Sturges? Did you ever fucking get it through your head that maybe, just maybe, you deserve better? Or maybe I ran away to be alone! Or maybe I just don't want to love you anymore. Ever fucking think of that? So go the fuck back home and don't ever look for me again."

Sturges was speechless.

He'd risked his life for him. He almost died plenty of times, but wanted to keep going. He lost so much sleep and cried so many tears. But Warren was...

Now Nate was angry. But Warren was already leaving. And Sturges was running after.


	8. Chapter 8

"Don't fucking talk to me."

"I'm gonna fucking talk to you, hotshot. And you're gonna fucking listen. You scared the shit out of me. I thought you were fucking dead-- no. Shut up. All this cryptic shit about wanting to die and running away never to be found again? It's scary, alright? I love ya, I care about ya. Without you I think... I think it'd be hard to go on."

Warren blew out a long puff of smoke, not even bothering to wipe his tears.

"You don't gotta love me back. If you don't wanna do that stuff anymore, I won't. We'll just go back to bein' friends."

"You're gonna freeze your ass off out here." he sniffed.

"Then come inside."

"Can you just go inside? Please? Just go home and be safe and warm? Why the fuck are you wasting your goddamn time with me, huh? Does it make you feel better?"

"I'm not going anywhere without you."

"* _Why?_ *" Warren begged.

"... I don't know. I can't tell ya why I feel the way I do about ya. I just... I just don't wanna be without ya. I've lost a lot of shit in my life. A lot of people I cared about. Lost a lot of family, my home,  everything. And if I lost you, I... I don't think I'd be the same again. You make me real happy. --Don't ask why again." Sturges paused. "But you... You don't feel the same way, do you?"

"Of fucking course I feel the same way! That's why I think you deserve someone else. I'm not a good person. Everyone who sees you with me shuns you for giving me the time of day. They forget about all that hard work you do because of it, and I hate it! I'm a raider. I'm dangerous, unstable, a coward... I wanted you to forget about me. To decide to care about yourself. And your stupid ass could've died for it." Warren sighed deeply. Stomped his cigarette in the snow. Pulled Sturges in for a big hug. Sturges wrapped his arms around Warren too, and held him tight.

"There might be some stew leftover for you and Nate." Warren said tiredly. "And... I couldn't really help myself. My locker's full of duct tape and I was putting a gun together for you." His voice was exhausted, but his face was soft. "Hopefully it won't weigh ya down on your way home."

"If it does, you'll hold it for me, right?"

Warren bit his cheek and kept silent as he led Sturges into the building.

-

"Nate." Warren took his shoulder, nearly scaring him into breaking Warren's nose.

"Evening. You been staying up lately?" Nate handed him a warm cup of boiled honey water.

"Yeah. I'm really, really pissed off at you. When I see you, all I can think of is snapping your fucking neck." He sat near the fire. He was not joking about the anger.

"I couldn't just let him travel alone."

"Then you should've made him stay. But I'm not gonna think about that right now. I wanna know about that guy we killed earlier. He looked me right in the eyes and started sayin' some stupid words... Then you shot 'im. Thanks, I guess. But... I don't know what the hell happened."

"War. You..." maybe it was a bad idea. "Does the name 'T8-43' mean anything to you?" Mmmmm, maybe he should've kept his mouth shut.

"Just sounds like numbers to me. And a letter." he shrugged after a sip of his drink.

"Uh huh. What's your take on synths?"

"They're fucking creeps, sneaking up on us, killing us and replacing us. Fuck, the whole wasteland could be full of Synths and we'd never fucking know." he paused. "We might. Do synths grow old, you think?"

"Do you feel any older than you did before?"

"What, are you retarded?" Warren frowned. "Don't act all high and mighty cuz you know what day you were born."

Dancing around it would be a waste of time.

"That man was an Institute Courser. He was gonna say your recall code, get you shut down, bring you back to the Institute and wipe your memory."

Warren spat out his drink and wiped his mouth. Apparently he thought it was funny.

"You're full of shit. That's a good one, though."

"You're a synth, Warren."

"No, dude. I remember my past. I remember bein' a little kid. I remember fishing up a good haul of fish with my parents in Maine. I remember growing up." Worried eyes looked to Nate for help. Pleading, please, please be a joke. "I think I'd remember being a fucking synth, Nate."

"Sorry, Warren. I just thought you should know."

"How the fuck would you know that anyway?"

Nate explained the whole Institute thing to a wide-eyed Warren. But Warren laughed it off, patted his back and got up.

"I'm gonna go piss and go to bed. When are you and handyman goin' back?"

"Whenever you're ready."

"Buddy." he frowned. "I'm not going back."

"They're worried about you up in Sanctuary."

"Yeah, yeah, Sturges told me. I don't care, though. Hope you both get it through your thick fucking skulls one of these days." he said dully, thumbs in his pockets. "I don't trust no one there. Get some sleep, Nate. Good night."

-

Warren was never the type to get up early, but apparently that had changed when he got to the Slog. Dressed himself in warm clothes, helped cook food for the ones who wanted to eat. What had he thought about while he was on the run? Or was he always like this at heart?

"How'd you and Nate not freeze your asses off, eh?" Warren asked after a polite 'good morning' to Arlen Glass.

"Big coats, armor, bein' on the move gets the blood flowin'. Keeps ya warm." Sturges said.

"Huh." Warren raised his eyebrows and scooted closer to Sturges. "How's your lil' car project goin'?"

"Metal's real finicky in cold temperatures, but I managed to fix up the back. Damn trunk actually opens now." he sipped his coffee, a small smile on his face.

"Better than nothin'. Think she can take the roads one day?"

"Hm. Maybe. I saw some cavemen in a comic power their rock car by their feet, so anything's possible I guess." Sturges began to ponder this a moment. "I'm sure I could make it run. I mean, A fusion core could probably make it go. Ain't a car just like a horse version of power armor?"

"A... horse?" Warren blinked. "What the fuck is a horse?"

Sturges took a long drink of his coffee.

A ghoul then came to explain both horses and cars to the two of them. What an odd world Nate was living in.

After a bit of talk, Warren found Nate and took his gun.

"Uh huh. You and Sturges are shit at cleaning your fucking guns." He muttered, putting them both on the table. "I oughta fuckin' beat the both of ya into the ground with the fuckin' gunk inside this shit. Dumbasses." He dismantled them and worked his magic. Of course, he was complaining the whole way, but Nate appreciated it. He'd never seen Warren's face while he was cleaning, either. Focused. Entranced in something so meticulous, in his own world.

But it was over in a flash. He was fast and efficient.

"There. Clean your fucking shit." He handed their guns back. "I've-- I'm... I'm goin' to scavenge and see if I can catch some fish. Uh. Maybe I'll pop into your junkyard every now and again, eh? To see how your project's goin'?" he said to Sturges, hopeful.

"You're... you really ain't comin' back with us?" Sturges asked quietly.

"Yeah. I really ain't, Sturges." The raider sighed. "If you really have to waste more time with me, you can look here or Goodneighbor. Alright?"

"What about-- what about the stuff at your house? And the model robot we were working on? A-and teaching the folks how to--"

"Don't get yourself so fucking worked up, handyman. I'm not dying. I said I'll visit. I hoped you'd respect my opinion and be okay with it."

"I... I'm just gonna miss ya."

"Don't. I'll visit you." What a soft smile. He placed a tender kiss on Sturges' cheek. A kiss so gentle it was hard to believe it was Warren giving it. "Keep yourselves safe, okay?"

They left without the whole reason they went searching in the first place.

-

They were greeted with cheers and gifts at their return. Sturges thanked them, dreading hearing Warren's name. But every time it came up, it was like a punch in the gut.

"He's not comin' back." he cleared his throat. "Y'all made your beds, now you gotta sleep in it. Move on. Clean your own damn guns, mod your own weapons, learn for yourselves. It's probably better in the long run. I'm gonna catch up on my sleep." He looked at the lights and snowmen around town and clenched his fists. Inhaled and let out a deep breath. "Christmas party's in a week. Can't fix things up on one hour of sleep." He left, but Preston followed. Sturges, who usually spoke to him when he was feeling down, gave him a polite 'no thank you' and went to bed.

"Damn. I really thought you guys would bring him back." Preston sighed. "So what're you gonna do now?"

"There's nothing I can do. Guess I'll just let it be." Nate said. "I think I've heard enough of Warren's name for one decade."


End file.
